One might think the first few flight hours after passing the checkride are a time of special peril. Up until then, someone more experienced has always cross-checked the student’s decision making. CFIs back their more seasoned judgment with greater skill during dual instruction, and sharp limits typically govern student solos. Once that student becomes a certificated pilot, however, he or she is suddenly the final authority on how, when, and whether to fly, with no obligation to seek anyone’s guidance even when it’s available. It’s easy to imagine mayhem resulting from the consequent lapses in judgment.
Fortunately, the data don’t bear this out. The 2009 Nall Report found no clear evidence that new pilots suffer a disproportionate share of accidents, and an informal review of accidents during the past year involving pilots with fewer than 100 hours total time found predominantly the same types of mishaps that occur during primary training—bounced landings and losses of directional control are heavily represented. If this doesn’t speak well for the quality of airmanship being learned, at least it suggests that instructors are reinforcing their students’ natural interest in self-preservation with a responsible approach to aeronautical decision making.
Of course, there are exceptions. In Iowa in December 2009, a 50-hour pilot tried to take off from a runway covered in ice. When the airplane began to drift sideways, he hit the brakes, sending it into a snow bank. In May 2010, a 90-hour Ohio pilot lost control in flight, seriously injuring his passenger. They’d been making passes over a friend’s house at an altitude the pilot described as 300 feet in a telephone interview, then amended to “500 to 600 feet” in his written statement. Unfortunately, a witness produced videotape showing the airplane maneuvering at treetop level and told investigators, “The pilot was dive-bombing…showing off to his friends. He pulled up too steep and caused the plane to stall.”
June 2010’s fatal crash in northwest Montana is still under investigation, but radar data showed the airplane 300 feet over the Flathead River, and witnesses described it flying as low as 30 feet above the water. That section of the river runs in a narrow valley between steep ridges; all three passengers died with their 100-hour pilot. And the 19-year-old who spun a 172 into the Pacific in June 2008 had passed his checkride just three days before. Miraculously, his rear-seat passenger survived.
Freedom is exhilarating, but it shouldn’t go to your head. The wisdom of expanding the envelope gradually, one step at a time, applies just as much after the checkride as before.
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